


why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?

by leefelixfelicis



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Not Really?, Post-Break Up, Short, Short One Shot, Tags Are Hard, Toxic Minho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27698161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leefelixfelicis/pseuds/leefelixfelicis
Summary: “What did you do wrong?!”He has the audacity to look concerned. God, Jisung hates him.“Everything, Lee Minho. Every fucking thing.”
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?

_ In, _

Minho takes a deep breath

_ and out _

He exhales and a stream of smoke escapes his lips.

His brain is already starting to fuzz up as he takes another hit, this time holding his breath for a bit before releasing the slow trickle of smoke. He smirks, letting his head fall back with a thud against the wall. Another hit. And another. And another.

_ In, _

A bright light cuts through the hazy room and the boy looks down at his phone. The screen is hurting his eyes.

_ and out _

A notification from Jisung.

He picks the phone up and puts his joint out on the table.

“We’re fucking over” 

_ Shit. _

Fumbling with the device, he manages to unlock it. The message was sent 2 hours ago and Minho vaguely remembers reading it from his lock screen before rolling up a joint. “Fuuuck,” he drawls, additional curses slipping out of his mouth when his fingers stop cooperating with him.

  
  


**Recipient : Han Jisung**

jisumg

fuck

sung

_ x (1) Missed Calls _

pick upn

now.

_ x (4) Missed Calls _

baby please

  
  
  
  


“God fucking damn it,” Minho yells in frustration after he calls for the twelfth time and gets redirected to his boyfriend’s voicemail. “Why won’t you pick up?” 

The dial tone bounces around the room and he watches the fog swirl through the light of the streetlamp outside his window. It cuts to the automated message yet again, and this time he doesn’t hang up.

“Please leave a message after the tone,” the robotic voice says.

_ Beep _

Minho hesitates, brain muddled from the weed.

“Jisung, baby,” he starts. “Please pick up. I love you. Call me back when you get this. Tell me what I did- I can’t lose you.” He exits the call window and goes back to check their messages. 

  
  


_ Read 12:54AM _

  
  


Swearing, he throws a leather jacket on and pushes the door of his flat open.  _ It won’t take long to run over. _

  
  
  


-

  
  
  
  


“ _ I can’t lose you, _ ” Minho’s voice rings in his ears. A tear drops onto his phone and he flips it over, dragging his hands up his face and into his hair.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers to himself, falling onto his bed and laying in the dark. Eventually, he runs out of tears and is left with nothing but a buzzing numbness.

He throws a pillow across the room in irritation, looking at their messages for the fourth time of the night. A sudden bang at the door startles the boy and he walks to the front of the house. It has to be Minho.

“Han Jisung!” he shouts. “Open the door-”

“No,” he responds, thanking the gods that his voice didn’t give out and crack. “Leave me alone, Minho.” There’s a nasally undertone in there from crying, and he prays that Minho can’t tell through the door.

“Please,” Minho continues to shake the doorknob. “I’ll break the damn door down if you don’t.”

Jisung sighs. He knows he isn’t lying, meaning his only choice is to turn the lock and step back. Minho shoves the door open and stands there, looking at the boy and sighing in relief. His silhouette is surrounded by the dim orange light of the street.

Jisung looks away.

“What the hell do you want?” he spits out as he turns the porch light on. Minho’s hair is a mess and he smells like the aftermath of a smoke session. “Tell me what I did wrong, baby,” he replies. Now that the door is out of the way, Jisung can tell that his speech is slurred. He moves up to examine his [ex] boyfriend’s eyes. Sure enough, they’re red at the edges.

“Are you fucking serious?” he yells in disbelief. All of that worrying and panic over Minho’s lack of replies was for nothing. They always end up like this, and Jisung is tired. 

“What did you do wrong?!”

He has the audacity to look concerned. God, Jisung hates him.

“Everything, Lee Minho. Every fucking thing.”

Minho frowns, losing his balance a bit as he takes a step towards the younger. “Don’t even think about coming in,” he snaps coldly. After a pause, Minho comes to a realisation and laughs in disbelief.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” he’s hysterical, clutching his stomach and wheezing. “That thing with Chan?” Jisung glares at him. “What a fucking joke. You actually care about that?”

His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek in anger. Of course he fucking cares. Bang Chan is hot. Manly. Built. Everything Jisung is not. Minho’s laughter falters.

“That was just a hookup, baby,” he says gently, switching up faster than Jisung can think. Every damn time. He always falls for it: his saccharine words and soft coaxing. It's a never-ending cycle; the same had happened after Minho's little thing with Hyunjin. and Seungmin. and Felix. All while they were dating, but this time Jisung is completely done with his bullshit.

"And so was the last one. Oh, and the one before that," he quips. "When's it gonna stop, Minho? When is it going to FUCKING stop? Am I just not good enough for you? What the fuck do you want me to do?"

Minho is taken aback, analyzing the boy and carefully crafting a response. "You're my everything, babe- the others were just accidents" he drawls, slowly moving towards the shorter. "I swear." 

Jisung is furious, a bright red tinging his vision as he draws his hand back and brings it down on Minho's face. The older is unphased, bringing a hand up to his cheek and rubbing the area.

"Ouch." he says, sarcastic, and Jisung nearly loses it. 

He laughs breathily. "You're fucking ridiculous," he snarls. "How many times did you sleep with other people? Are you just that much of a whore or did I mean  _ nothing _ to you? God, you piss me off, Minho, you know that? I hate you. I  _ fucking _ hate you. I hope y-"

Jisung is interrupted by Minho roughly grabbing his face and shoving their lips together. They kiss, but without love. It's short-lived, but it’s fueled by anger, by the ghost of a relationship and pure venom. Minho tastes like weed and Jisung jerks back.

"Get the fuck off of me," he yells and Minho just smirks, leaning in for another before being pushed away by the younger. He stumbles a bit; his high is fading away, but his sense of balance is still iffy. "What the hell do you not understand about 'we're over'? We're fucking done! I can't go on like this." 

Minho laughs and snakes a hand up the shorter's shoulder. "Who said?" 

Jisung slaps his arm away. "I did! I'm fucking tired of you, Minho. A half-assed apology isn't going to solve it this time--"

Minho chuckles, cutting him off. 

He looks at him with smug, red eyes. 

"Well it did last time, didn't it?" he sneers, almost daring the younger to answer. "And the last. Oh, and the one before that!" he mocks, unaffected by any of Jisung's words. He saunters up to the younger and leans into his ear.

"You might think we're over, but you  _ know _ that I'm the only one who'll ever love you like I do," he pokes the middle of Jisung's chest and drags his finger up to his chin. "You'll always come running back to me, like the sweet, helpless, baby you are." He brushes his thumb across the other's bottom lip, slowly. "See you later, Jisung."

With that, he walks out of the house, not even bothering to close the door. His figure disappears as he turns the corner, and Jisung is left alone, speechless. His heart hurts. He can't feel his limbs and his head is swimming with thoughts as he wobbles up to the door and closes it. After it's shut, he falls onto the floor, back against the cold wood. 

  
  
  


Minho had won.

  
  
  


Again.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> guess the song i put on repeat while writing this haha


End file.
